Page 45 of Light From The Dark

Without saying another word, Brent opened the front door, glancing around, noting the empty street. I followed him out, then walked over to his truck and waited while he locked the office back up. He grinned at me and gestured with his head to the side of the building. “Over here, dollface.”

I followed him with a healthy dose of curiosity, wondering what I would see. There was mostly disappointment when I realized there was a fenced-in lot in the back that held different types of heavy machinery and a large shed-type structure. After unlocking the gate, he led me over to an older model white pickup. For the most part, it was in decent shape and had the business logo on the door. I watched in fascination as he pulled the large magnet off and walked around to the other side, repeating the process. He unlocked the passenger door with his key, tossing the magnets into the center of the bench seat.

“In you go, baby.”

I climbed up into the spacious cab, noting that it didn’t have a backseat and smelled faintly musty. I blushed when he took the two packages from me, setting them in the center of the long seat, and pulled the seatbelt across my lap before kissing the tip of my nose. The long bench seat was vinyl and had several cracks, but it was still comfortable. When he climbed into his own side, I just had to ask.

“Why are we in this truck instead of yours?”

He put the key into the ignition, grabbed the handle close to the dash, and pulled it, maneuvering it into place. I blinked at it for a good minute before I realized it was a gear shift. He grinned.

“My truck is great. It has all this nifty technology with all kinds of computer chips. It has satellite radio and even a built-in GPS.”

It took me only a few seconds to let his words settle when my brain clicked on. “The police would be able to track your vehicle and place you at the scene of the crime.”

“Exactly.”

He drove through the gate, not bothering to close it behind us, then pulled onto the road and headed in the general direction of where Ethan and Brent’s house was. The houses were nice in the neighborhood he drove through, though not quite as large and spread out as the one they lived in. He came to a stop along a curb that had dense trees next to it and shut off the engine. I sat there staring expectantly, knowing that he was going to give me some kind of order, and I was right.

He turned to face me, his features hidden in the shadows, but I could see his eyes peering at me. Even in the gloom, it was obvious he was serious, and there would be no arguing. “I want you to stay right here. Do not leave this truck for any reason. If I don’t come back within thirty minutes, I want you to slide over into this seat, turn on the truck and drive back home.” Before I could make any protests, he held up his hand. “Promise me now, dollface, or we leave and never do this again. I won’t put you in danger, and this is the most dangerous part.”

He waited, and would have waited all night for me to relent and agree. As much as I didn’t want him in any danger either, I had to agree. I would only make things harder for him. “I promise.” My whispered words were quiet in the cab of the truck. The only other sound was that of the ticking engine as it cooled. He breathed out a sigh of relief, reaching over and snagging me by the back of the neck.

“Thank you,” he breathed out against my lips and took them in a fierce kiss that left me gasping. When he let me go, he reached for one of the bundles he’d had me carrying and ripped it open, pulling out a pair of black gloves that he slipped on. Next, he placed a black baseball cap over his head. I raised an eyebrow at the choice of color. I could just make out the smirk on his lips before he turned and slipped out of the truck, closing the door quietly behind him, barely making a sound.

The night was quiet, and all I could do was let my imagination go wild, wondering what he was doing. I imagined a million different scenarios. Did he lure the man out of his house? Did he break in, somehow dismantling the home alarms that were surely installed? How would he get him out?

It seemed like time slowed to a vicious crawl as I waited with anticipation, my anxiety growing with every second that ticked past. The only way to tell time was from the numbers from the small clock on the radio. We had left our phones at the office, of course, for the same reason we couldn’t take his other truck.

I drummed my fingers on my legs as I stared hard into the night. Taking in every shadow on the darkened residential street and wondering if I was seeing actual movement or if it was just tree limbs moving in the slight breeze. It was impossible to keep my leg from bouncing.

When the time ticked over to twenty minutes, I was slowly edging toward panic. I had promised to leave him behind, but could I really do that? What if he needed help? The man he had gone to retrieve was a heartless murderer. I had no doubt that he would kill Brent if he felt as though he might be in danger, and he wouldn’t even blink. I knew Brent had a syringe of something, but I was unaware if he had armed himself with any weapons. All I could picture was the other guy having a gun. Nothing could stop a bullet from going through a man only dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

I was so busy imagining a gunshot ringing out in the quiet neighborhood that when a thump and a muffled curse came from the back of the truck bed, I screamed out into the cab, jumping and turning around in the seat. Before I could even make out anything, the door swung open, and Brent was climbing inside. I stared at him with wide eyes, my hand covering my heart that was racing out of control and ready to pop right out of my chest.

I could see the flash of his white teeth as he grinned at me. “Ready to go, dollface?”

With my whole body trembling, I nodded, not sure if I wanted to strangle him or kiss him.

Thirty

CASEY

We drove for a while,taking a back road out of town. The low hum of a country station on the radio that started to get staticky as we got further away from town was the only thing filling the silent void in the cab. He finally turned down a bumpy old dirt road. I had to hold on to the handle above my window as we bounced along to keep from banging against the door. With every jostle over the many potholes, I clenched my teeth tighter until the headlights illuminated a tiny rundown shack in the middle of the woods.

I didn’t say a word as we came to a stop just outside the old wooden door. The whole place looked like it would fall over in a harsh wind. We descended silently from the cab of the truck, and I stood there with my hands shoved in my pockets as I watched Brent messing with something in the truck bed. It was so dark outside that without the headlights still on and pointed at the treeline next to the cabin, it would have been pitch black. It was the perfect scene for a murder. If it were a movie, some masked man would probably sneak up behind me and stab me through the heart.

I jumped as Brent passed me, heading for the door, his arms holding something I couldn’t make out. I followed him as he made his way up the creaky steps and opened the unlocked door. Standing just inside the doorway, I was barely able to make out anything, straining to listen as Brent moved around. He seemed to know what he was doing, like he had the layout perfectly memorized.

A quick flare of light and the sound of a match being struck had my head jerking around to see Brent lighting an oil lamp. He turned the dial on it, and it suddenly brightened enough to light up the small space, allowing me to get my first look around.

The cabin was small enough that it couldn’t even really be called one. It was definitely the shack I had first taken it for when the headlights had bounced over it. Everything was wood, from the walls to the floor. Even the single table pushed against the wall was wood. It was the size and shape of a dining room table that someone with a large family would have, but it was rustic and uneven. I supposed it more resembled a picnic table instead of a dining table.

I watched Brent pick up a roll of plastic and, with quick efficiency, rolled it out across the floor, covering the entire small one-room space. He walked over to the table and lifted one end onto the plastic, then moved around it to do the same with the other end. I moved forward to help, but he waved me off.

“I got it, dollface. If you want, stand on that end of the plastic to keep it from moving as I get the table into place.

I did what he asked, practically tip-toeing over. I smoothed the thick sheet of plastic where it had been bunched up around the legs, pushing it up against the wall with my pink sneakers. If I didn’t know any better, it would look like we were getting the room ready to be painted.